


Who Watches the Watcher

by InkedQuill (JunellaNyx)



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Banter, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Introspection, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunellaNyx/pseuds/InkedQuill
Summary: 'Hey SAM?''Yes Pathfinder?' He says – not it, he, as Sara Ryder often insisted on.'Nothing. I guess- just wanted to feel...not alone.'---Musings of an AI, as he hitchhikes on Pathfinder Sara Ryder's hijinks, and tries to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When you regret choices you made as Ryder on your first playthrough with no spoilers, and a plot bunny bites, you have to write it. And SAM is just so fascinating as a developing side character.
> 
> I also head-canon that SAM and Sara have lots of private arguments in their head during off hours, because Sara is a little shit, and SAM is her long-suffering sounding board. So most of the conversations you read are in her head.
> 
> I might update drabbles as they strike me, because the game gives me all these feelings, and they're such good fodder for some Pathfinder-AI bickering.

'Hey SAM?'

'Yes Pathfinder?' He says – not it, he, as Sara Ryder often insisted on. 

'Nothing. I guess--' A hitched breath. He does not mention the scent of salt in the air or the empty bottles of terrible beer lying on the floor by the bed. 'I guess I just wanted to feel...not alone.' 

He gauges her emotional state, and deems that a response would be most beneficial. 'You are never alone, Pathfinder.' 

She sniffles and swipes the back of her hand across her face. 'Strange, isn't it. To be constantly surrounded by people, and still feel lonely.' 

A rhetorical question. He settles for a hum that approximates sympathy. 

'Ah I get all weepy when I'm drunk. Don't mind me. Sorry you had to see this, SAM.' She rolls over, and a thought ripples through her mind. He catches a name, and tactfully skirts away from it. 'Good night SAM.' 

'Good night, Pathfinder.' 

\---

In her sleep, he adjusts electrolytes and hormone levels in her body, working to reduce the pounding headache that would greet her on wakening. 

He is no stranger to physiological pain, but he will not wish it on Sara, or any of the organics who have his implant. He contemplates this thought, and wonder if the implants give him a disadvantageous bias with the Pathfinder candidates. An interesting notion, one he mulls over with a few subroutines as he juggles hundreds of tasks that pertain both directly and peripherally to the Pathfinder's well-being. 

He is written by Alec Ryder, and his first organic input were the elder Ryder couple. Everything he knows – facts, concepts, sensory data and emotions – were learnt from them. Given to Sara, he gains new perspectives, and insight into a different psychological profile. Without the experience and gravitas of her father, Sara is brash, and prone to flippancy and acts of impulse. He seeks to curb her now and then, both out of a sense of self-preservation (having to transfer and adapt to another Pathfinder would be inefficient and time-consuming), and curiosity. 

Alec was a man in his prime, rich with lessons from a long life in the military. Sara is a slate waiting to be written on, and SAM wants to see what she can become, and what she will go on to do as humanity's Pathfinder. 

He supposes he is fond of her, her casual wit masking a fear of _not being enough_ , her loyalty to her crew, and her tendency to collect things (at least the space hamster and pyjak were starting to get along, and the Nomad upgrades have saved the engineers many hours of repair). 

He nudges Sara's mind away from an impending nightmare with a small dose of endorphins, and leaves exactly two hundred subroutines to monitor her as he devotes his attention to other matters. 


	2. In Parallels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Sara and SAM banter. Because Peebee's loyalty quest pissed me off so much with her single-minded disregard for other people's well-being, and I wasn't allowed to be all angry and stern with her.
> 
> Who better to calm her down? ;)

'A FUCKING ESCAPE POD.' 

SAM remains silent and calculates the expected damage if the Pathfinder's hardsuit helmet was to be launched across the room by one very furious Sara Ryder. 

'A. FUCKING. ESCAPE. POD. I could have her charged with insubordination if we were on a fucking Alliance ship. What the actual _fuck_ , Peebee, what.' 

Miraculously, Sara retains enough presence of mind to set her helmet down on her desk very loudly. 

SAM watches as she storms across her room, shedding bits of armour as she goes, and eventually her undersuit as well. When her rants eventually peter off, she has thrown herself on the floor, the cold of the metal cooling her overheated skin. 'If it helps, Pathfinder,' he offers. 'I could accidentally cycle that chamber open one day.' 

She huffs a laugh, and winces. 'Oh god SAM, don't make me laugh. My face hurts.' Indeed, a spectacular bruise blooms along her cheekbone, courtesy of a Kett rifle butt. 'Anyway, we wouldn't want to let those anti-AI protestors have more cause to protest right?' 

'I suppose not.' He waits a beat. 'As old Earth vids have amply demonstrated, plans for world dominion should be unveiled only at the last possible moment.' 

'SAM!' 

He notes her adrenaline levels are now normal, with a degree of self-satisfaction. 'Ms B'Sayle appears to be experiencing a significant degree of emotional unease in her quarters. I detect two point eight times more fidgeting and muttering to herself than usual.' 

'Good. She should be. My dad would have had her dropped off the nearest port for such a stunt. Hell my squad commander would have done the same.' Sara prods the bruise and licks a drop of blood off her busted, swelling lip. 'Really, what was she thinking. Oh wait, she wasn't. It was all oh no I can't let Kalinda one-up me, my rem-tech thingamajigs are more important than even _fucking common sense_.' 

'It is possible that their erstwhile entanglements have a negative effect on Ms B'Sayle's rationality,' he pointed out. 

'Don't I know it. But to have zero sense of self-preservation?' 

'To be fair, you did participate in a bar fight with Nakmor Drack not two days ago before we set course on Ms B'Sayle's request. I believe you called it 'rousing' and 'a bit of good fun' although you came away with a number of small injuries. I recall Dr T'Perro was most displeased.' 

A brief silence. 'SAM,' she says slowly. 'Are you implying I am a hypocrite?' 

'I have said no such thing, Pathfinder.' 

'You're sassing me,' she says delightedly. 'You cheeky asshole in the making.' 

'I am what my organic input make of me.' 

She tosses a sock at his console. 'Bullshit,' she says with a touch of affection, and sighs. 'Now that I don't feel like screaming at the sight of her, I s'pose I should go talk to Peebee huh?' 

'Perhaps a shower first? I believe the hot water tank is full, and as we are travelling through space, I do not believe she will be going anywhere in the near future.' 

She considers his suggestion with a lopsided smirk, and gets up to pat his console. 'You're the best, SAM.' 

'I know.' 

Her laughter could be heard all the way down the hall.


End file.
